


Starry, Starry Night

by orphan_account



Category: Clone High
Genre: Blood and Injury, Caesar and his Family Guy shirt, Disturbing Themes, Friends to Lovers, Headcanon, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other minor characters - Freeform, Suicidal Thoughts, Van Gogh just needs comfort and help, Vomiting, severing of ear, triggering content, vent - Freeform, vent fic, venting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:07:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26263912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: (Title based on Vincent(Starry, Starry Night) by Don McLean, please give it a listen)Based on what Vincent might have done to himself to earn the bandage during the Summer. This contains possible very triggering themes and events for some, so please read something else in order to protect yourself. I also just wanted more appreciation for Caesar :/.
Relationships: Julius Caesar/Vincent van Gogh (Clone HIgh)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 128





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this while a huge thunderstorm was happening and while trying to comfort my dog so I apologize if theres any mistakes or its just way to cringy to read. When I wake up tomorrow and have some time I'll rewrite if needed. Idk if I'll make a second chapter :/. Depends on mood.

Vincent sat in the chair by his bed, rocking back and forth as he held himself. His parents were gone for an important buisness trip, which left him alone in this lonely and misery home. He was glad his parents were gone, he didn't have to deal with their shit. The short teen was finally free from the constant belittling and beating, which left his skin under his baggy clothes covered in red bruises and he covered with makeup, bandaids, and clothing. He never knew why his foster parents treated him this way, and would think to himself of how his own clone father would treat him instead.

His room was his safe space, where he would spend hours and hours painting and getting as much joy and comfort as he could. Like his clone father, he found a joy and comfort in painting, where he could express his thoughts and feelings. But tonight, he couldn't bring himself to stare at his easel. All he could do was stare the floor and his knees, all of his thoughts racing. 

He than pulled up his left sleeve, and stared at the scars he made himself, as his eyes started swelling with tears. He hated himself, every last inch of it. He than got off his chair, and walked over to his dresser. He opened the third drawer, which was his "underwear and socks" drawer. He rummaged though it, and than found what he needed to relieve himself.

An razorblade. 

Vincent stared at the razorblade, his mind spinning. More tears fell down his cheeks and onto his blue coat, leaving lil water stains. "C'mon Vincent....you worthless bitch" he whispered to himself, clutching the razorblade with one hand as he used the other to close his drawer. How would his friend group think of this? Would they stare in horror as they accidently take a glimpse at his arms? Would they abandon him and call him a pussy? Spread drama around? No, never, they cared to much about him.

But Vincent never let himself believe in that. He knew he didn't deserve them, and was ready for when they abandon him. He knew they would be disapointed in him, along with everyone else. He knew that handsome young Roman would never love him the same way back, and would just scoff in disgust and leave him. At that thought alone, Vincent clutched the razorblade even tighter in his tiny hands.

Another thought came to him, something he never wanted to repeat from his clone father. Something that would instantly make him evem more of a disappointment and failure than he already was.

He was gonna sever his left ear.

He knew he was gonna be exactly like his clone father. Why did he have to be born and end up doing the same thing? He was a weakling, nothing amazing about him. His clone father was only famous after death, and lived a life of sorrow. That was how it was gonna be for him, there was no purpose. There was no saving him. No one there to hold him close to their chest and let him cry, tell him sweet nothings as they leave small kisses on his ginger hair while carding it with their fingers. Let him ramble non-verbal words and stay there with him, listening to every word even though it was barely recognizable. 

He stood at the mirror that sat on his dresser, than contained a photo of some of his friends and him, where he was smiling. He couldn't bare staring at the photo, not wanting to look at their faces in which would show disapointment. 

He then grapped his left ears helix, and pulled it towards the mirror so he can place the razorblade. He clinched his eyes, even more tears flowing down his sorrowful cheeks as his body started to tremble and shake. His hands were shakey, he felt like he was gonna fall over, vomit, and pass out in it. He then let out a huge breath of air, and sliced. The crimson blood started to ooze out, covering his left side of his neck covered in blood. The blood started to trickle on to his jacket as he clutched his now severed left ear. 

He than ran to the bathroom, and grabbed a towl. He held it to the left side of his head where the ear used to be, and applied pressure. He was crying even more, breathing frantically.

"I....I..I did it, I cut....my own ear off" He whispered to himself, staring towards the ground with wide drippy wet eyes. He than ran back to his room, and went back to sitting in his chair, clutching himself and his ear and towel. He reached over to his nightstand and laid his ear, and grabbed the phone.

He might aswell make one last phonecall to him.

He dialed in the teens number, and then held the phone to his right ear. He waited for him to pick up, and luckily, he did.

"Hello Vincent? Are you doing alright, bro?" the voice said to the phone as Vincent bit his lips, trembling as he pushed harder on his wound with the now soaked towel.

"Ju..Julius, I..." Vincent spoke into the phone, bringing his knees even closer to his chest. His vision was blurring, his body began to feel more lighter.

Julius on the other end started to get concerned, his voice changing tone. "Vincent!?!?! Do I need to come over there? Did something happen to you!?!?! Please Vincent, I need to know!" Caesar blurted frantically into the phone, sweating in fear to what could be wrong with the ginger artist he loved.

Vincent could only respond with incoherent speech, as he than suddenly fell onto what sounded like his floor, the phone coming down with him. That was the last thing Caesar heard before the connection was lost. 

The Roman never felt so terrified until that very moment, rushing out of his own home in only his Family Guy shirt and black sweat pants to the address of his crush.

And maybe Olive Garden.

:'(


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Authors note

Hello!!! My apology that this isn't a new chapter but just me rambling. Thank you for checking my fic out, I really do appreciate it. I actually wrote this fanfic so I could self project and such, and why it wasn't written....very well. I would love to have a beta reader that can reread the first chapter and let me know what I can change.

I wrote this while at midnight during a huge storm with a splitting headache that lasted hours and hell I think it was actually a migraine. This was my very first Clone High fic and writing a fic that was serious in a while due to me having low motivation these months. I will try and write a second chapter hopefully if anyone is up for that.

If there is anything that you would like to say, please comment it! I need as much criticism and opinions as I can so I can better my writing style. Also how do you properly add brand new tags on mobile??? I try the comma but it doesn't work and I get tense about it.


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OOP

Vincent than opened his eyes slowly, his mind foggy. His eyes wondered a bit towards the roof, seeing white instead of his blue and yellow roof he painted himself. He smelled what seemed to be some rubbing alcohol, iron, and a faint scent of AXE body spray...interesting he thought. He than slowly started turning his head towards his arms, and spotted some tube that was inside his right forearm, pumping some red fluid into him. 

His mind started freaking out at what was inside of his very right forearm, which was a IV pumping blood into his body. His head than started to itch, and on instinct he rose his left arm to take care of it. When he was about to, he felt some sort of fabric. He than started to touch, poke, and rub at the area where it was, and reached a certain place where a certain important 'organ' was supposed to be. He felt around it a bit more, feeling nothing. 

He then remembered what had happened that night, that sad,sad night. He laid his left arm back down on his so-called 'blanket', and stared below where the rest of his body was hidden by the 'blanket'. He felt pathetic,stupid, horrific at what he had done, biting his lips and trying to hold back is tears. He gripped at his blanket, as his tearducts gave up and let the waterfalls free and began his sobbing. 

He couldn't control it, he was angry and disapointed in himself. He failed his very own clone father, oh how he thought he would look down at his cloned son of himself and shake his head in disappointment, his frown and eyes full of pity. But the Dutch painter would never, but of course Vincent thought differently.

Vincent did not notice or even bother knowing who was slunched down on a chair by the right side of his hospital bed, jolting awake by the sounds of Vincents own sobs. Vincent couldn't even hear the sound of shoes hitting the ground suddenly and rising themself up, being near where he laid there. Vincent than felt a gentle hand on his right shoulder, which startled him a bit from his sobbing to turn his head slowly to his right, showing the person of his face covered in salty tears.

To his surprisement, the person holding his right shoulder was no other than is wonderful crush, Julius Caesar, but instead was referred to as "Caesar" instead by everyone else. He continued to sob even more, unable to control or stop as he felt even more overwhelmed. He should be happy or comforted by the fact his crush cared about him, standing near him holding his right shoulder gently, but instead felt even more pathetic and worthless due to the fact he had to see him like that.

"Shh, its alright Vinnie.....you're gonna be okay, just calm down, you're safe now. I'm here for you, and I will never leave your side..." Caesar had spoken to Vincent, and then lowering himself down a bit so he could 'hold him', putting his arms gently under Vincents own, being careful about the IV in Vincents right forearm.

Vincent eyes widened a bit, his sobbing slowing down a bit, his nose leaking with snot as his face was covered in the hot and salty tears that were like acid raindrops. He wasn't used to this kind of....touch of affection, which his parents should have gave him then rather giving him the touch of pain and sorrow. Vincent than comfirmed where the smell of AXE spray came from, and it was Caesar. 

"Cae...sar,,, am I.....in the hospital?" Vincent muttered, staring at the lower half of Caesars face, where he could see his lower half of his nose, and his mouth and chin.

"...yes Vincent, you are in the hospital. Last night, after your call aruptly hung up after the sound of a loud thump, I knew you were in danger. I could sense it, especially from the tone of your voice and how you spoke. So I had to run there as fast as I could, and scary and luckily enough, your front door was unlocked. So I barged myself in, ran to where I hoped your room was, opened the door, and saw you. You were I presumed to be passed out, a puddle of your own blood underneath you that oozed from your ear...." Caesar explained, using his right hand to clutch at Vincents grown behind his back.

"....and so I gently rolled you head a bit so I could see the injury, and my eyes then widened as I laid my eyes upon it. So, I decided the smart thing to do was to tear some of my poor Family Guy shirt so I could use it to wrap around your head and to cover the injury, and hopefully put pressure to so the bleeding can be halted. So I then picked you up, and ran out. So that is basically how you ended up on this hospital bed, with stiches where your left ear should be and actual fabric bandage..." Caesar finished, unleashing himself from Vincent so he could stand up and show him his shirt.

And Caesar was right, where Peter and Lois should have been, there was a large tear. Vincent felt guilty about it, but also somehow found it kinda funny how Peter and Lois kinda saved his life. "I'm....so sorry about your shirt, Caesar. I feel so fucking path-" Vincent was than interrupted by Caesar himself.

"Please don't be sorry, it's just a shirt I can always go back and buy another one of. Besides, you are not pathetic and worthless for what you have done. You couldn't control yourself, and someone should have been there to tell you to drop that razor and hug you tightly like you were tied up with some rope. I'm the one who should be sorry, Vincent, I could have helped you before all this happened you. If it wasn't for you making that phone call, I wouldn't know what I would do if I found out you had passed away in your own bedroom, alone and depressed in a puddle of your own blood. But now your here, safe, and I'm happy about that, you're still here." Caesar softly comforted him, interrupting the small boys own words.

Vincent stared at him, smiling a tiny bit. He didn't know how and why, but somehow the words the Roman spoke with his charming accent made him feel better than what he had felt. He had finally stopped his crying, the tears stained on his face as he brought his left arm to wipe away everything on his face, leaving his arm covered in tears and snot. He felt a small blush appear on his face for some reason, even though it probably shouldn't have...made him feel like that. With a sudden warmth in his body and a sudden impulse, he decided to truly tell Caesar what he had felt about him.

While Caesar had noticed Vincent using his left arm to wipe his face, he tried to grab some tissues or paper towels he could spot, until certain words had stopped all what he was doing.

"I love you, Caesar"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so tired and I probably need to go back when I have time to rewrite a bit. Ooooh! These bitches gay! Good for them! Good for them.


	4. A/N 2

I apologize for the second A/N, but thank you for all the hits and kudos! It kinda makes me nervous but at the same time happy lil stimmin. Also thank you to those who like my Van Gogh playlist on Spotify it was made by the kinnie himself. If you ever wanna interact with me then follow me on strxwbxrryfixlds on insta! Also I will try to make a new chapter soon I am just very stressed with school and having some not so great mental health (which I use this fic to vent :))

But thank you so much for giving this work some appreciation. This ship has grown on me as an comfort and it means a lot to me that it's being accepted. Also please let me know if theres anything there needs to be rewritten or is incorrect, and I will go back and fix it. Your criticism means a lot. Thank you! <3

(Btw I am Ringo and my pronouns are he/him)


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